


little red

by bibliosexual



Series: the hunger games [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 05:20:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9585200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliosexual/pseuds/bibliosexual
Summary: The tribute parade. Stiles has seen this part before, on the broadcasts, so he knows: it’s going to be blinding lights, a long procession, and more people than he’s ever seen in his life, more people even than at the train station that afternoon, when the eager crowds had swarmed right up to the windows, waving, cheering, aiming cameras, a suffocating and garish mass of bodies. Stiles thinks they look like a bunch of clowns.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [maybehonestly](http://maybehonestly.tumblr.com/) wrote in, "So I totally loved the latest installment of the Hunger Games AU! And I really really love how you're already meshing the two worlds together instead of just like putting them directly into the normal world. Like werewolves? How does that change things? And the Sheriff as a peacekeeper?? Pretty much, I just think this is all totally fab and can't wait for more :)" So I wrote a little drabble! 
> 
> Originally posted [on my tumblr](http://bibliosexxual.tumblr.com/post/131120164596/so-i-totally-loved-the-latest-installment-of-the).

The tribute parade. Stiles has seen this part before, on the broadcasts, so he knows: it’s going to be blinding lights, a long procession, and more people than he’s ever seen in his life, more people even than at the train station that afternoon, when the eager crowds had swarmed right up to the windows, waving, cheering, aiming cameras, a suffocating and garish mass of bodies. Stiles thinks they look like a bunch of clowns. 

Not that he’s in much better shape at the moment, standing around in costume. He fidgets, rubs at his mascara until his stylist, Allison, slaps his hand away and steps briefly up into the chariot to wipe at the black smudge he made on his cheek.

Derek, meanwhile, is standing stock still, stiff, eyes forward. Stiles doesn’t know what his problem is. He’s not the one whose red hoodie inspired his stylist to dress him up as Little Red Riding Hood for the tribute parade.

He’ll admit, it makes a certain kind of sense. District 7 is the lumber district, full of old-growth forest. But still. It’s not fair that Derek gets to be the Big Bad Wolf, manly and intimidating in a badass leather jacket and artfully ripped jeans, while Stiles gets manhandled into leggings and a flowy red hooded jacket. He’s spent the last hour sitting absolutely still–an amazing feat for him in and of itself–while Allison gelled his hair, rimmed his eyes in mascara, and painted his lips blood-red. Even though she let him keep a ghost of stubble on his chin, he still looks like a kid, all huge eyes and coltish limbs. 

Derek won’t even look at him, not directly. Probably because he wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face if he did. 

Scott certainly wouldn’t’ve been able to. He’d probably double over, wheezing, maybe even laugh himself into an asthma attack, like that time Stiles handcuffed himself to his dad’s office desk in his underwear on a dare and then couldn’t pick the lock. 

This is definitely more humiliating.

“Okay, the doors are about to open,” Allison says, and Stiles fist-pumps, because _finally_. She takes hold of his hand. She’s beaming, all blue-green princess hair and perfect dimples, impossible to stay mad at even if her outfit _is_ about to embarrass him on national TV. “Hey,” she says, and gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “Just remember to smile for them. Smile so much they have to fall in love with you.”

“I bet Derek’s stylist didn’t tell _him_ to smile,” Stiles says.

Derek says grimly, “There’s no way they could make me.”

Stiles rolls his eyes (although Derek still isn’t looking at him), and then the doors are opening, and Allison is stepping back into the shadows, and there’s no point in trying to speak, not over the swell of music and the thousands of voices raised to greet them.

Stiles raises his head high. Showtime.


End file.
